


When Cas Drinks Too Much

by thewinchesterfromhell



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drunk Castiel, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 05:38:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5993518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewinchesterfromhell/pseuds/thewinchesterfromhell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Cas is drunk, he likes to scribble cute things in Enochian on Dean's hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Cas Drinks Too Much

Dean cut the engine in front of the bunker. A few hours ago, Sam, Dean and Cas had headed out to get dinner at a diner and bar about half an hour away. They all had a few beers, and for Cas that meant getting drunk. 

Dean and Sam got out of the car and locked eyes across the top. Dean waved him away and said, “I’ve got him. Go get some sleep.” Sam nodded and turned around, heading for the stairs going down to the bunker.

Dean opened the back door of the Impala. Cas, who was leaning against the door, almost fell out. He caught himself just in time on Dean’s leg. Dean grabbed his elbow and pulled him up and out of the car.

“Come on, Cas,” Dean said. “Gotta get you to bed.” Dean closed the door behind Cas. He put an arm around his shoulders and started the walk to the bunker. 

At the top of the stairs, Dean stopped Cas with a hand on his chest. “Alright, Cas. Stairs. Think you can handle them?”

Cas turned to Dean, looking mysteriously sober. “You have very beautiful eyes, Dean.”

Dean sighed, ignoring the comment. “Alright, buddy. Let’s go.” Dean stepped in front of Cas to prevent him from falling forward and cracking his head open as they descended the stairs. 

Cas took a cautious step down, steadying himself on Dean’s shoulders. As he continued to step forward, Dean stepped down until they made it to the bunker door. 

“Hey, you made it!” Dean gave a sarcastic cheer. He didn’t think giving him a slap on the back would be safe, so he settled with squeezing his shoulder. “Let’s get you inside and in bed.”

“Bed sounds very good,” Cas agreed. Dean opened the bunker door and followed Cas in. 

“Alright buddy, more stairs,” Dean warned. “But I have faith in you.”

“Thank you, Dean. That means a lot,” Cas said. He turned around to face Dean. “I have faith in you too.” He looked serious and not at all drunk.

Dean flushed a little at the comment. He decided to brush it off, hoping Cas wouldn’t remember saying it tomorrow. “Come on, just walk down the stairs.” 

Cas turned back around and gently stepped down the stairs, one at a time. Dean always kept a protective hand on his shoulder to make sure he didn’t pitch forward. 

When they reached the bottom, Sam stepped out of the kitchen on his way to his bedroom. “That took a long time, guys,” he commented.

“Hey, you can’t walk down stairs when you’re drunk either!” Dean yelled back.

“I,” Cas interjected, “Am not drunk.” To prove his point, he tried walking in a straight line. Two steps in, he veered off toward the war table and picked up a pen sitting there. He clicked the tip out and in a few time before walking over to Dean. 

“Dean. I need your hand,” Cas said with urgency. Dean decided to just go with it and gave him his right hand. Cas flipped it over, palm side up, and scribbled something there. When Dean looked at it, it was illegible to his human eyes.

“What does it say, Cas?” he asked.

“Ask me when I’m sober,” Cas replied, dropping the pen on the ground. “Let’s go to bed.”

Dean put his arm back around Cas’ shoulders (to make sure he doesn’t fall over, he told himself) and led him to his bedroom. 

He helped Cas take off his jackets and drape them over his desk chair. Cas sat on the bed and started to yawn, so Dean took his tie off for him and unbuttoned his dress shirt to reveal a white undershirt. He placed the blue tie and white shirt on top of his jackets. When he turned back around, Cas was laying down on his back, eyes closed. Dean could guess that he wasn’t asleep yet, but knew he wouldn’t be moving anytime soon. He untied his shoes and took them off, setting them next to the chair. 

With only his pants and a white tee on, Cas looked bare to Dean. He never saw him with so few layers on, and he stepped back to observe for a moment. His chest expanded with each breath, pulling the shirt tight. His tan arms lay by his sides, slender fingers stretched out on the sheets. His dark hair was tousled against the light pillowcase. 

Dean stepped forward to the side of the bed, uncertain about what he was about to do. Gently, he brushed back hair from Cas’ forehead. His fingers lingered, tangling themselves in the soft hairs. 

Suddenly, Cas’ eyes shot open. Sparkling blue eyes stared up at terrified green ones, and Dean’s hand froze. Slowly, Cas brought one hand up to grab Dean’s wrist and pull his hand out of his hair. 

Thinking Cas was mad, Dean started to stutter out an apology. “Sorry, Cas, I--your hair was--I didn’t mean--”

Cas looked at the palm of Dean’s hand, at the foreign words written there. He brought the palm to his lips, closed his eyes, and pressed a soft kiss in the middle. Dean relaxed at the warm pressure in his hand.

Cas’ eyes opened again, but he didn’t release his hold on Dean’s wrist. “Stay here tonight,” he said. He looked up at Dean, and Dean felt as if Cas was looking at his soul rather than his face. 

Unable to protest the plea, Dean gave in. “Okay,” was all he could get out. He stripped off his plaid shirt to reveal a white t-shirt and kicked off his boots. He lowered himself onto the bed next to Cas, and Cas rolled onto his left side to face him. Dean laid on his right side and brought his left hand up to cup Cas’ cheek.

“Cas, you’re not going to remember any of this,” Dean whispered to him, unexpected bitterness lacing his words. Cas seemingly ignored his worries, moving his right hand up to Dean’s shoulder. He stretched his fingers, placing them under the short sleeve of his shirt over the fading pink handprint. 

“A mark left by an angel,” Cas said, looking at his hand, “Is a claim on a living thing.” His eyes flickered up to Dean’s. “It’s like...oh how do you humans put it?” He looked above Dean’s head, thinking for a second. “It’s like dibs,” he concluded. “I claimed you, Dean. I have dibs on you.”

“Dibs, Cas? You have dibs on me?” Dean repeated, incredulous that angels had such a thing.

“Yes. You are a very beautiful human with a very beautiful soul,” Cas said with no shame as he leaned forward to wrap his arms around Dean. “And you’re all mine.”

Too exhausted to protest, and more comfortable than he’d care to admit, Dean reached over to switch off the lamp and fell asleep with Cas in his arms.   
*****  
Dark hair tickled Dean’s chin the next morning. He squinted his eyes open and looked down at the sleeping form draped over him. His arm was wrapped tight around Dean’s middle. 

Dean leaned his head back, breathing out a sigh. He couldn’t stay here. If he stayed here, he would never leave. Gently, he removed his arm from around Cas’ shoulders and slid out from beneath his body. Cas grumbled a little and buried his face in the pillow Dean had been sleeping on.

Dean stood up from the side of the bed and grabbed his shirt and boots from the end of the bed. He quietly walked out of Cas’ room and two doors down the hallway to his room. As he put his boots on the ground, he caught a glimpse of the pen scribblings on the palm of his hand. 

He got an idea, and walked over to his desk to grab a piece of paper and a pen. Dean’s best guess was that Cas wouldn’t remember anything from last night, including writing on his hand. Looking carefully at the markings, he sketched them on the paper the best he could. He folded it up and stuck it in his pocket. Then he walked over to the sink in the corner of his room and scrubbed with soap and water at the pen. The ink came off and washed down the sink.

While he was slipping his shirt back on, Dean heard a groan come from Cas’ room. Smirking a little, he walked over to his bedside table and grabbed a bottle of Advil out of the drawer. He picked up a cup on the table and filled it up with water from the sink before walking over to Cas’ room.

The sight made Dean smile. Cas was laying on his stomach, face down in the pillow with both hands buried in his messy hair. The sheets were tangled around his legs and his shirt rode up his back revealing smooth, tanned skin. 

“Mornin’ sunshine,” Dean greeted. He walked over to the side of the bed and placed the glass and bottle of medicine on the table next to Cas. “How ya feelin’?” The only response he got was a moan muffled in the pillow. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Dean said with a smile. “Come on, get your ass outta bed and I’ll make you some food.” As if on cue, he heard a grumble come from Cas’ stomach. “Ham, egg and cheese sound good?”

Finally, Cas took his hands out of his hair and turned toward Dean, propping himself up on his elbows. He squinted up at Dean and then at the water and medicine on the table. He dropped his head in his hands for a brief moment before pushing himself up. He sat on the edge of the bed and reached for the medicine, taking the cap off and popping two pills in his mouth. 

“Do you remember anything from last night?” Dean asked, careful not to put too much emotion into the words. He wanted to be casual, not let it slip that the man had asked him to spend the night with him. 

Cas took a few gulps of water and swallowed the pills before answering. “I remember dinner, drinking, and that’s about it. How many beers did I have?”

“Not many. Three, four, five at the most,” Dean said with a shrug. “You don’t really drink though, so I guess they hit you pretty hard.” Cas nodded in agreeance and rubbed his face with his hands. 

“A ham, egg and cheese sandwich sounds great, by the way,” Cas said. 

“Alright. I’ll get on that,” Dean said. With that, he left the room and headed for the kitchen.  
*****  
Later that day, Dean and Cas were sitting in the library doing some research. With Sam in the kitchen eating, Dean thought this would be a perfect time to ask. He pulled the paper out of his pocket and carefully unfolded it. He glanced up at Cas, who had turned to him when he had heard the crinkling paper. 

“Hey so uh, I’m not sure what language this is,” Dean started, “But do you know what it says?” He handed the paper to Cas, who squinted at it for a few seconds before his eyes returned to their normal size.

“This is Enochian, Dean,” Cas said, sounding a little surprised. “Where did you get it?”

“I uh,” Dean stuttered a little. “I found it in a lore book I was going through last night.” He left it at that, not willing to tell an elaborate lie to his best friend. 

“It says ‘You are beautiful,’” Cas said. He looked at Dean with his head cocked to the side. “Do you remember what book you saw this in?”

“Uh, no,” Dean stammered again. “It was just a random book I found.” He took the paper back from Cas’ outstretched hand and folded it back up before sliding it into his pocket. They both returned their attentions to the books in front of them.

Meanwhile, Dean’s thoughts were racing. Is that really what Cas had written on his hand? Maybe he had gotten part of it wrong when he copied it. Maybe it had multiple translations. But no, Cas would’ve said something. He sent a hand through his hair and looked down at the book in front of him, trying to hide his blushing face from Cas.

“Dean? Are you alright?” Cas asked, peering at Dean and trying to get a good look at his face. 

“Yeah, Cas, I’m fine,” Dean said, hoping his face had cooled off a little as he looked up at Cas. “I’m gonna go get a drink. Want anything?” He stood up from his chair and started slowly walking toward the kitchen.

“No, I’m fine, thank you,” Cas said to Dean’s back. 

Dean sped up his steps and reached the fridge in what seemed like an eternity. He was so absorbed in his thoughts he almost ran into Sam, who was heading back to the library.

“Woah, you okay there?” the older brother asked.

“Yeah, fine, just staring at too many words,” Dean said the first thing that came to his mind. 

“I know how that feels. Take your time reeling your mind back in,” Sam said with a slap on Dean’s back. But Sam how no idea just how far away Dean’s mind really was.  
*****  
Two days later, it was another night out for the boys. Again, they had a few beers. And again, they came home with a drunken Cas. 

Once Dean got him inside to the war room, he saw another pen. He pulled the cap off and stared with squinty eyes at the tip before declaring, “Yes. This one will do just fine.” He walked back to Dean and grabbed his right hand, not bothering to ask for it this time. Dean rolled his eyes and watched the drunk angel scribble more Enochian on his palm.

“Thanks for the tat, Cas,” Dean said, gently taking the pen out of his hands. “Now let’s get you to bed.”

“Will you be staying with me, Dean?” Cas asked with puppy dog eyes. Dean only looked at them for a second, knowing that staring would result in instant surrender.

“No, Cas,” Dean said. “You don’t need me.” 

As it turns out, he did need Dean. Dean tried to simply walk Cas to his room, but he couldn’t undress himself. So Dean helped him get undressed again, down to his undershirt and dress pants. He was pulling the covers up to Cas’ shoulders when Cas’ hand shot out and grabbed Dean’s. Then he rolled over, not loosening his grip at all. Dean stumbled forward as Cas rolled toward the center of the bed, tugging Dean with him. 

“Cas, let go of my hand,” Dean quietly, not wanting to disturb Sam across the hall. “I have to go to bed.”

A mumble of something came out of Cas’ mouth before he forcefully pulled Dean’s arm. He jerked forward, caught by surprise, and fell onto the bed. Cas rolled over and face him, big blue eyes like endless oceans in front of him. Dean stared, unwilling to look away from the beautiful sight.

“Dean,” Cas said. “Will you please stay here tonight?” He gently placed Dean’s hand on his waist and then slid a hand to Dean’s chest. Without waiting for a reply, he rested his head on Dean’s shoulder and let out a yawn. 

“Goodnight, Dean,” Cas said. Dean just looked at him, unsure of what just happened. 

“Dean?” 

“Uh, yeah, Cas?”

“Can you turn the light out?”

Dean reached up and flicked off the light on the bedside table.

“Thank you, Dean.”

“Sure thing, Cas. Goodnight.”  
*****  
The next morning followed a similar pattern of the last night they spent together. Dean got up earlier than Cas, slipped out very quietly, and wrote down the Enochian symbols on his hand on a piece of paper. He compared the two phrases to each other, looking for any similarities. He saw none. He folded the new phrase and stuck it in his pocket before scrubbing it off his hand. 

Dean grabbed the Advil and filled up another cup of water for Cas. He took them to his room before he woke up and left them in the exact same spot as last time. Before he could look at the sleeping angel and get all mushy inside, he left and headed for the kitchen. Some food would do him good. 

About half an hour later, a grumbling Cas walked out. 

“Good morning, sunshine,” Dean said with a chipper voice. “How are we on this fine morning?”

“Terrible. Thank you for the medicine and water,” Cas said, gruff voice even deeper in the morning. “I’m never going to drink again,” he said as he walked toward the table where Dean was sitting.

“Don’t lie to yourself,” Dean said as he sipped his coffee. He watched as Cas took a seat and folded his arms on the table, dropping his head onto them. 

“Hey, so,” Dean said, trying to speak a little quieter than usual. “I found another Enochian thing, I think.” He pulled the paper out of his pocket and unfolded it, sliding it across the table to Cas. He lifted his head off his arms and stared at the letters.

“’Strength and selflessness,’” Cas said before dropping his head back down. Dean looked at him with a surprised expression, glad his face was buried in his arms and not staring back at him. 

“Well, um, here,” Dean stood up and filled his almost empty mug all the way up with hot coffee. He turned back to the table and set it in front of Cas. “Have a cup of joe. It helps.” He gave him a squeeze on the shoulder and walked out. 

*****  
It had been weeks since Cas had been drunk, but this night he didn’t hold back. The three of them had just gotten back from a hunt against some vengeful spirits a few hours away, and it was a tough one. Dean had gotten a blue handprint around his throat, and they each had their fair share of scrapes and bruises. Cas had been able to heal them all before they got in the Impala to come home. 

They all sat down with a bottle of whiskey and three shot glasses. Shot after shot after shot until it was three in the morning and there were two empty bottles in the table. 

“Woo, where did the time go?” Dean said with a glance at his watch. “Already three, guys.”

“Bed time for me,” Sam said as he stood up. He held on to the edge of the table for a second to steady himself, and then he turned away and walked to his room, surprisingly stable on his feet. 

“So Cas,” Dean said, looking into his blue eyes. “’Member when you said you were never gonna drink again? Ah, good times.” He fumbled with his shot glass, turning it over and over between his fingers.

“I do remember,” Cas said, twirling a pen in his hands. “I did indeed lie to myself. Drinking is a wonderful thing.” A small smile lifted his lips, and he pulled the cap off of the pen. 

Before Cas even made a move toward him, Dean dropped the shot glass on the table and stuck his hand in front of Cas. Cas just stared at it, as if he was unsure of what to do with a hand.

“Come on, I know you wanna write somethinnnn’,” Dean drawled at Cas. Cas twirled the pen around his fingers once before grabbing Dean’s hand and tugging it closer. He bent over it, deep in focus, and Dean felt the pen tickling his skin. When Cas sat up, he had a smug smile on his face. 

“What’s it say?” Dean asked, staring at the pen lines in oblivion.

“Excellent question,” Cas said. He grabbed Dean’s other hand, squinting at his watch. “Ask me in…oh, ten hours or so. I’ll have an answer for you then.”

“I’m just gonna wake up with some random scribbles on my hand and not remember a single thing,” Dean mumbled to his hand. 

Cas simply ignored him and stood up, wavering on his feet a little. He pressed a hand to his head and one on the table for support. Dean took his cue and stood up as well, faring better than Cas in the balance department. He stepped around the table and grabbed Cas’ arm, tugging him toward the bedrooms. 

“Come on, buddy,” Dean said, words slurring together a little bit now that he was tired too. “Time for bed.” Cas followed him like an obedient puppy following its master. 

When they reached Cas’ room, Dean stopped himself in the doorway. Cas brushed past his shoulder and walked to the side of his bed. He tried to take his jackets off, but struggled. He turned toward the doorway and looked at Dean with puppy dog eyes. Unable to resist the cuteness, Dean sighed and walked over to take off his jackets for him.

“Thanks,” Cas said before flopping onto his bed, face down in the pillow. 

“Uh, what ‘bout your shirt ‘n’ tie?” Dean asked. Cas simply shook his head, the motion small in the pillow. “Alright, suit yourself,” Dean said, snickering a little at the unintentional pun. 

Dean started heading out of the room when Cas called him back.

“Deeeeeeeean,” he called. “Come baaaaaack.” Dean shrugged, then took off his plaid shirt and kicked off his boots on his way to the bed. He laid down on his side next to Cas, and Cas scooted up next to him and draped an arm across his waist.

“Mm, good night, Dean,” Cas mumbled. His eyes quickly closed, and Dean listened as his breathing slowed. He watched Cas’ dark eyelashes flutter against his tan skin. He watched as the corners of his mouth twitched up just the tiniest bit. He watched his nose crinkle as he dreamt happy dreams.

Dean leaned forward and pressed a tiny kiss against his temple. I won’t even remember doing it, he told himself. So what does it matter? And with that, he fell asleep.

Sometime later that night, Dean awoke to cold air. 

“Cas?” he whispered into the dark, voice a bit raspy from sleeping. He guessed he hadn’t been asleep long; his thoughts still weren’t straight. He stuck an arm out to where Cas had been and felt nothing. Maybe he had imagined it all. 

“I’m right here, Dean,” Cas said from somewhere in the room. “I’m just taking this stupid shirt off.” Dean heard his feet padding back to the bed before he felt a dip and then a warm body next to him.

“I told you,” was all Dean said before they both fell back to sleep, arms wrapped around each other.

Dean woke up that morning with Cas pressed against him and soft hair tickling his cheek. He pressed his nose into Cas’ hair and smelled the clean soap smell. He stretched his hands across the angel’s back and rubbed them up and down. Cas stirred awake and buried his face deeper in Dean’s chest.

Suddenly, Cas jerked backed. “Uh…” his mind struggled to wake up and comprehend what was happening. “Why are we—did we—what—?

“Gee, don’t look so happy,” Dean said, sarcasm dripping from his words. It was supposed to come out light hearted, but it came out with a bitter aftertaste. Dean sat up and got out of the bed, cold air hitting him like wall. He felt a dull ache in his head as he walked over to grab his shirt off the chair where he had tossed it the night before. 

“No, Dean, that’s not what I meant at all,” Cas said, trying to repair the damage he had accidentally created. He sat up and faced Dean. “I just…I know you’re attracted to women and I possess a male vessel and that may be uncomfortable for you.”

Dean didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t sure he was ready to voice his affections toward Cas, especially to Cas. Instead, he sighed. “Cas…” He looked in the angel’s blue eyes and he felt the puppy dog effect start to take over. He walked over to the bed and sat next to Cas.

“How did you even end up in my bed?” Cas asked, scratching the back of his neck.

“Well, I’m going to assume it happened the ways it did last time. You asked me to stay,” Dean said, looking down at the ground as his face flushed. He looked up at Cas to gauge his reaction and saw wide eyes and pink cheeks. 

“I…asked? And you stayed?” Cas asked, confusion evident in his voice. He furrowed his eyebrows and cocked his head at Dean. “Wait, this has happened multiple times?”

“Well…yeah. It’s not a big deal. The last times you got drunk you asked me to stay, and then I left in the morning,” Dean said, embarrassed. He was bringing his hand up to scratch his neck when Cas snatched it mid-motion.

“What’s this?” he demanded, staring intently at his palm. Dean twisted his hand around so he could see the scribbles. He didn’t remember Cas writing on his hand, but he had been drunk. 

“Enochian? Maybe?” Dean said, knowing exactly what it was. He didn’t want to admit just yet that Cas had written it there—and that he had done so multiple times. 

“Dean, I know what it is,” Cas said. “What I want to know is how it got there.”

“I…don’t remember?” he lied. “What does it say?” he asked delicately.

Cas’ grip loosened around his wrist and he lowered Dean’s hand into his lap, long fingers stroking the familiar symbols. “It says ‘I love you,’” he said, voice tinted with surprise and astonishment.

Without thinking twice about what he was doing, Dean leaned forward and kissed Cas. Cas sat frozen, shocked, and Dean took that as a bad sign. He quickly pulled back, already putting his hands up in a gesture of surrender. 

“Cas, I’m sorr—” He was cut off by Cas’ words. 

“Dean. Where did these words come from?” He was intense and urgent, and it scared Dean a little.

“You wrote them.”

Cas’ eyes widened slowly, and realization danced across his features. “What about those other phrases—‘you are beautiful’ and ‘strength and selflessness’—those were me too, weren’t they? I wrote them on your hand while I was drunk. Oh jeez, I’m so sorry, Dean.” He buried his face in his hands and bent over, hiding as much as possible.

Dean gently cupped Cas’ shoulder and pushed him up against his will. He gripped Cas’ wrists and pulled them away from his face. His eyes were squeezed shut, nose and face wrinkled in embarrassment, pink staining his cheeks. Dean couldn’t help but smile a little at the cute face he was making.

Dean gently slid his hands up to Cas’ face and cupped his cheeks. He turned his face toward him and watched as Cas’ face slowly relaxed. Finally, Dean leaned forward and softly pressed his lip to Cas’. 

Instead of freezing like he did earlier, Cas moved his lips against Dean’s, savoring the taste he had been waiting for. All too soon, though, Dean pulled back. A soft smile graced his lips.

“What was that for?” Cas asked, wonder in his voice.

“Well,” Dean said, ready to give in but not sure how. “I kinda…think you’re beautiful, too.” Cas smiled and looked down, pink staining his cheeks once again. 

“And,” Dean continued. “I think you’re really strong and selfless.” He slipped a hand down to Cas’ jaw and lifted his face up, forcing him to look into Dean’s bright green eyes. 

“And,” Dean said, not quite done. He shyly smiled at Cas. “I love you too.” 

Cas brought his hands up to Dean’s neck and pulled him down to kiss him. Dean let his hands fall from Cas’ face to his waist, tugging his warm body closer. They both smiled into the kiss as their lips moved together. 

Footsteps echoed from down the hallway, but neither of them heard. They approached Cas’ room and stopped outside. A loud sigh finally broke them apart, both turning to face the doorway.

“Finally!” Sam exclaimed. He started clapping as he continued walking down the hallway. “I knew it!”


End file.
